Torn Relics - Abolish the Dogma

Published on 2020-04-02 00:00:00 by Dom Walker

Torn Relics first release, The Poisoned Chalice (2019), was a triumph of gut-punching dread, threading percussive techno with the mournful cries of a modulated violin. The pitch black mood of that record is in no short supply on Abolish the Dogma. Here, with their first LP, released in February by the Amsterdam label Leyla, Torn Relics capture a sound that is forward-looking – modern, industrial – while recalling shadows of history in its evocation occultism and ritual.Formed in 2018 by Romek Boyer and Aimée Mullen, the duo incorporates diverse musical tradition, style, and instrumentation. Boyer, who also releases techno as Rommek, demonstrates his skill for heavy, driving rhythms and dark soundscapes. Mullens background in traditional Irish music as a violinist – the instrument is used in myriad ways here – and bodhrán player brings a counterpoint that is as earthly as it is ghostly. Together, they produce a sound that is wholly organic and rough at the edges.The album opens with a distant echo, like the breath of something lurking in the night. The slow drone of Mullens violin follows – restrained, melancholic. This is the aptly titled ‘Cry of the Catacombs. So the violin here is like a ghost gradually emerging from below. As on side Bs opener, ‘Novena, there is no beat, no distinct rhythm to help you navigate. We are not being eased in; this album wont be an easy ride, we seem to be told. The lack of rhythm gives way to an ambience in flux, as though it were quicksand pulling us deeper and darker.In a world of streaming, piracy and curated playlists, listening to an album in its entirety has become somewhat old fashioned. Torn Relics ensure you listen to this from start to finish, both in the format of its cassette (and digital) release and in its structure that works like a story, with tension that rises and falls, where there are moments to lose yourself and brief places to catch your breath. If ‘Cry of the Catacombs captures the spectral, then ‘Blood Stained Tapestry, track 2, is where the album becomes full-bodied and physical. The growing kick drum moves inexorably and ritualistically, adding flesh to the scattered delays and growling plucks of violin.The title track is where the incantatory energy that pervades the album is most explicitly evoked. Over the top of a reverberating bass drum, Mullen chants in Gaelic like a witch casting a spell, building in guttural intensity to match the swelling layers of percussion. The unrelenting climax of chant, drums, and distortion is hypnotic. It could be the music to a play from the 17th century (think Macbeth) or a piece of contemporary cyber-punk cinema. ‘Novena works a similar charm: the low ring of a sound bowl bleeds into Mullens haunting wails. Its almost childlike – the lost notes of a nursery rhyme. This is the soundtrack for a world where dreams have turned into nightmares.On ‘Rebirth, we can hear the duos techno roots in full force. With the same slow penetrating bass drum – the heartbeat of the album – this side B standout starts gradual and sparse, with wavefolding distortion that snakes from left to right. Indistinct voices echo above the rhythm; the wails from before have turned faintly into cries.The samples of field recordings give the album a rugged, handmade quality, evidence of how the sounds have been literally hammered, bent, into something new, such as the bell or anvil we can hear on ‘Lured by the Sirens. Its almost as if the piece is being constructed in front of us as we listen. And this is true for the general texture of each track: pared down to the raw essentials, they lay bare their magic and construction while wrapping us tightly in a climactic sonic tapestry, elevating the music somewhere beyond form to a place of pure atmosphere.